Dragontail
by jdeldulin
Summary: A young man who detests Pokemon battles befriends a Dratini in Blackthorn City and finds himself sucked into the world of Pokemon training.
1. Chilly Weather

Disclaimer: Pokémon is not owned by this author, nor are the characters or creatures associated with the Pokémon franchise. These are property of Nintendo. However, original characters (Beryl, Beryl's family, the unique characters amongst the Joy family, etc.) are the creative property of the author, Jeston Del Dulin. No copyright infringement is intended. No money was obtained by the author from this story.

It was a cold day in Blackthorn City.

January 2, 2009. It was a day that a good many people in neighboring Mahogany would remember well. It was the day that Team Rocket attacked, taking over the Pokémon Center and Radio Tower, transmitting signals that would make the Pokémon there grow aggravated, accelerating their evolutionary cycle. It was an acceptable evil to them (as were most evils, for that matter). The town was under martial law in a mere few hours, the Mafia-like operation having been plotting this for years.

However, Blackthorn City on the other side of the mountains was recovering from a ferocious snow storm. It was known for its particularly mediterranean climate, opposite of Mahogany Town on the far side of the Ice Path, which is why the Dragon Pokémon were able to grow so powerful and numerous there. However, accompanying a chain of otherwise unnoteworthy weather was a blizzard that coated the landscape with snow and ice, forcing any and every Pokémon with a weakness to cold into any shelter they could find. The caves of the Dragon's Den quickly filled, each and every one of the Dratini and Dragonair crowding them thickly alongside Zubats and Golbats.

It was near there that a young man named Beryl Finnegan was sledding on one of the hills. He would come to one hill, then sled down it. Immediately after, he'd find another hill, and sled down it. Then another, and another. Before he knew it, he was far distant from his house, and it was getting dark quickly. Of course, he didn't notice the onset of the darkness, absorbed as he was in the snow. His eyes adjusted to the dark as it settled upon him, the shimmering snow making it all the easier to maintain vision.

Beryl Finnegan was a relatively tall boy for his age, but also relatively stocky, with bright blue eyes that hid behind round glasses and brown, muck-colored hair. On this particular day, he wore a large parka, snow pants, gloves and a stocking cap, with snow goggles covering his bespectacled eyes.

He hadn't brought anyone else along—he rarely got along with people his own age, and enjoyed the company of himself. Besides, so many of them were out training Pokémon, an act that he looked upon with horror. He was fourteen years old at this point, and the idea of even attempting something like forcing animals like that to fight each other, demanding that they do battle like pawns in a grand chess game, appalled him.

It took Beryl a good long while to realize he'd gotten far, too far away from town. Fear overtook him. The snowy landscape around him, hill upon hill up on hill seemed totally endless. He panicked, looking around fearfully. _This is why my parents need to get me a cell phone_ said the selfish, still-childish portion of his brain, having not yet recovered from the hungry consumerism that Christmas provides.

In the primal, still animal and survivalist portion of his mind, Beryl knew one thing: shelter must be found. The cold was becoming nearly unbearable, the snow having long ago begun soaking through his socks underneath his boots, as the snow does when you don't have your boots situated just right in the snow.

At first, he started walking in the direction he thought the city was. It was hard to tell, though, and he quickly lost track of where he was once more. The chill wind had covered the tracks his sled left in the frosted hills. He didn't think that sledding back would be appropriate because, despite its speed, he quickly realized that he was unable to see much when he was sliding down the hill at speeds his simple human eyes couldn't handle.

His sled was soon blown out of his hands by the return of the snow storm that claimed Blackthorn City not but a few days earlier. The blizzard was back, and with a vengeance. Beryl quickly gave up on any pretense of finding his way back home, and just started sprinting. He sprinted long and hard, his lungs filling with cold winter air, his boots now full of the same snow that surrounded him, making him fear frostbite with a kind of terror he'd never known before. He ran, until he it a wall. It was a rock wall, high and menacing, and, in all likelihood, part of the mountain range. He thought to himself that, if he were to follow it, surely it would get him somewhere with shelter. After all, these mountains were pockmarked with caves all over, right?

Beryl wasn't sure how long it took him, but he knew that it wasn't soon enough by his measure. The icy storm pushed him into the deep indentation in the mountain, forcing him into a roll that launched him a five feet in. He tumbled, insanely cute stocking hat over coat over legs, skidding to a halt in the middle of the cave, barely out of the range of the frigid wind and snow. The cave was cold and dark, and he could barely discern anything over the sound of the storm outside and the blackness inside.

Then he heard a peculiar noise. It was a sort of high-pitched whimper, barely distinguishable from the howling wind outside. Beryl crawled deeper into the cave, trying to see what it was that was making the sound…

And he found a Dratini. It didn't look too old (if he knew anything about the creatures he'd recognize it as an adolescent), and it was crying. Its tears had made a puddle underneath it that had frozen solid already. Beryl warily crawled over to it, hoping to offer at least a little bit of assistance. After all, they were sharing a cave together now.

"Hey there little fella…" Beryl said, and the Dragon Pokémon immediately raised its eyes to him, "Hey, what's wrong?"

He was met with a growl. It's hard for an adorable Pokémon like the Dratini to growl, but it did a pretty good job considering who it was trying to intimidate.

"Whoa there little guy," he was met with the Dratini then uncurling itself and standing on its tail in an instinctive show of power: "I'm bigger than you," the Dratini was saying, "don't mess with me, buddy."

The show of power was promptly spoiled by the ice puddle he'd made for himself. The Dratini slipped and fell, releasing a grunt of pain as it did so. It looked up at Beryl helplessly, as it curled back into its section of the cave.

Beryl hiked his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

"So, um…" he said, trying to make conversation. Nevermind that he couldn't understand a word it was saying; it's always nice to make an effort. "You lost, too?" he asked.

The Dratini looked up and nodded sorrowfully. Another tear dropped onto the pile and froze.

"I'm sorry," Beryl said, averting his eyes away from those of the Dratini as he said so, "I really am. It's cold in here, you know?" He looked up at the cave, its ceiling covered with massive, stalactite-sized icicles that looked to him like menacingly sharp teeth in the mouth of some huge cave Pokémon. He probably should have looked into learning a bit more about these things, seeing as how he lived in a major Pokémon-training city. But he avoided learning about Pokémon for the simple fact that he didn't care much for training Pokémon. It was like a national pastime in Johto, and he was at the age where he believed conformity to be the least cool thing you could possibly do. Conveniently, nonconformity meant less effort had to be put into learning and working, so Beryl was allowed be lazy and stay in the loving arms of his family. Those loving arms seemed distant and far away when faced with the unyielding blizzard outside and the nonexistent charms of his recent Pokémon acquaintance.

Beryl swore that the temperature was still dropping around him, the chill becoming too much even for his cavemate. "Listen, um…" the Dratini perked up, being the only one who the human could have been talking to, "I think we should… Get together for warmth. I know it's not wise, but if we don't, we could both die of cold here. It's best if we—whoaheynow!"

The Dratini had finally given up on any pretense of protecting itself, having decided that the human—while pink, fleshy and weak—had a point. Beryl opened his coat, and overalls, allowing the snakelike tail of the Dratini to wriggle its way inside his clothing. "Aa-aah!" he said, feeling the now frigid appendage brush against around his nether-regions before reconfiguring itself to wrap around his torso and the back of his leg.

He zipped up the overalls and coat, and they both felt almost instant relief from the cold, the two of them sharing body heat now. And it was in that relief and comfort that they both fell asleep, letting the warmth wash them off into slumber.


	2. A Short Adventure

Beryl awoke to find the world outside thawing, and the confines of his clothing far, far warmer than they were when he fell asleep. He looked down and, forgetting his sleeping situation, immediately began to panic. The blue and white head of the Dratini rested far too close to his eyes, and he let out a high-pitched, girlish shriek. The serpentine creature's large, purple eyes opened wide in shock, and followed the human's example.

That sat there, for somewhere between ten and thirty seconds, screaming.

When they realized what had happened, Beryl opened his jacket and overalls and let the rested Pokémon out. They sat there, for a few moments, catching their breath after the screamfest a few seconds prior. After a little while, they both looked at each other and started chuckling. Beryl wasn't certain that the Dratini was chuckling, but its body language suggested something close to laughter.

Beryl let out a loud exhale, accompanied by a "Whoo…" noise. He looked over at the Dratini, its tail circled around itself in what he assumed to be a sitting position. He eyed the little thing, not realizing that the creature was eyeing him in that same moment. Apparently the Dratini came to the same conclusion that he had—it was a nice enough creature, but their time together had passed. Also, thank God it didn't kill me.

"So, um…" Beryl began, at the same time that the Dratini began squeaking something in its own language, "Oh, you go ahead," Beryl then told it.

The Dratini squeaked something elaborate, and then motioned toward the exit to the cave.

"You want to go outside?" the young man asked. The Pokémon nodded. "Do you have a family out there? Do you know where they are?" The first question was met with a nod, and the second a shake of the head.

"Well, we should probably see to looking for your parents, right?" The Dratini nodded.

Beryl stood up, and took his jacket off, having grown a little too warm for comfort. He started walking out the cave, and stopped at the exit to look around. He carried the coat in his hands, and the tiny, snakelike dragon followed after him.

"Does anything around here look familiar?" Beryl asked. The little Dratini shook its head. "Great…" he muttered.

He tried to see if he could tell where he was, based on any of the landmarks around. No such luck. There was thawing snow and green, exposed grass to both sides, and the lake in front of him. Behind him was nothing but cave wall. He looked to the Dratini. "What do you think, right or left?"

The light blue Pokémon squeaked in its high-pitched voice that Beryl knew would someday turn into a ferocious, Dragonite roar, and cocked its head to the right.

"Right it is, then," Beryl told it.

He walked along to the right, waiting for the Dratini to catch up. He found that the little creature had difficulty wading through the slushy remnants of snowfall. It seemed that the Pokémon's weakness to ice affected every aspect of its life. It was fortunate to have found a cave to sleep in for the night, even if it did have to be kept alive by the warmth of a human.

Beryl stopped momentarily, then bent down at the knee to address the Dratini. "Hey, listen, little guy…"

The Dratini growled.

"Sorry… Um… Little lady?" It (she?) nodded at this. "Anyway, um… If you want, I can carry you along here. I mean, it's not hard for me to get through this snow, and I can tell you're having a heck of a time with—"

He was cut off by the Dratini's squeaks. She was shaking her head vehemently, and had an angry look in her violet eyes.

"Okay, I'm sorry!" Beryl said, holding his palms out in front of him and standing up, "I just thought I'd let you know that it's not nearly as hard for me as it is for you, and we might be able to move faster if I carried you."

The Dratini eyed Beryl suspiciously, then looked around at the boy's belt. No pokéballs? What was this kid playing at?

Beryl saw the Dratini eyeing his belt, then looked at her confusedly. Could she be thinking? No…

"I'm not a Pokémon trainer, if that's what you were wondering," he said. She looked up at him with a mixture of suspicious disbelief and apology. She wasn't sure if he was telling the truth, but if he was, she was sorry for it.

"I don't want to carry you around in a pokéball. I was saying I could carry you around in my arms, and we could make this trip at least a little quicker." He bent down again, and opened his palms facing her, "See? No pokéball."

She looked him up and down with narrowed eyes, and slithered over to him. She crawled into his arms, then, and slithered around to rest behind his neck. "Whoa… Well that works too," he shuddered, smiling weakly.

They resumed their trek in what they could only assume was the "right direction." Of course, their definitions of "right direction" were both completely different, but if Beryl ended up getting the Pokémon to its parents first, all the better. He could just head in the opposite direction afterword, right?

Then they heard the noise.

They both turned their heads to the side and saw something large, hairy and angry coming toward them. Beryl wasn't totally sure what it was, but his Dratini companion recognized a Piloswine when she saw one, and this one didn't look particularly pleased. It took both of them a few seconds to realize that the creature was not only making a big ruckus, but it was bringing its ruckus toward them with astonishing speed.

Beryl made a movement to run away, but his dragon companion would have nothing of the sort, and slid off of his shoulders to face the beast. She squeaked loudly at the eight-foot-tall quadruped, and it halted upon reaching her.

She talked to it, then, in the sort of language that Pokémon all seem to understand. Beryl never quite grasped how all Pokémon tended to understand each other when the sounds they made didn't seem anything alike, but he chalked it up to one of those unexplained, magical aspects that the creatures all carried. He never questioned how some were able to shoot beams of ice out of their mouth; why should he question their ability to communicate?

The Piloswine reared up on its haunches, and the Dratini's eyes widened in fear. She was barely able to escape the massive, hairy monster's stomp as it attempted to unleash a rarely-seen rage. "What's this Pokémon's deal?" Beryl asked, jogging over to the Dratini's side. She looked at him incredulously, lacking explanation.

Then the Piloswine began to charge again.

Beryl and the Dratini ran (or, in the Dratini's case, slithered) out of the way as quickly as possible, but Beryl looked behind to see his companion moving sluggishly through the slush. "Dammit…" he muttered, running over to grab her. Unfortunately, the amount of time it took him to reach the Dratini was equal to the amount of time it took for the Piloswine to reach the Dratini. Beryl grabbed his serpentine companion and rolled. He rolled and rolled and rolled, and he soon he was a good ten feet to the right of the Piloswine and barely ten feet away from the waters of Lake Blackthorn.

Beryl started thinking, thinking hard and fast. He wasn't very good in a fight against a massive, tusked Pokémon. That didn't mean that his friend couldn't do some good though, right? Pokémon battle each other all the time in the wild, and this was for survival. Beryl didn't want to die, and he was certain that his little dragon friend didn't want to, either. He knew that he'd hate himself for this later on, though… Resorting to forcing a Pokémon to fight another.

Then he locked eyes with the Dratini, and saw in her eyes the drive to live that had kept dragon Pokémon at the height of existence for years. Groups of Pokémon whispered amongst themselves that you didn't mess with the dragon-types. It's just not something that you do, unless you know you can take them. Even then, though, their family connections were strong enough that you might find yourself faced with a hoard of Dragonites the next morning.

Beryl stood, shakily, letting the Dratini go as he did. He looked to her, and she nodded soothingly, before slithering out to face the Piloswine. Both she and her new friend realized that this might be their last day on this earth, but fighting seemed like the only option at this point. The Piloswine was fast—surprisingly fast, considering its size.

The Dratini looked to her human companion for guidance, and he looked back at her dumbly. Then she remembered—no pokéballs… Likely never having used a Pokémon in battle… She swore in her squeaking, Pokémon language, and was forced to dodge a blast of concentrated blizzard that was sent her way. It touched the tip of her tail, though, and she shivered in pain, shrieking in agony.

She threw herself to the side, and thought, for a moment, that she'd have to figure her way through it by herself. But, unbeknownst to her, Beryl was thinking, hard. What kind of attacks to these "Dratini" things know? That's what you do in a Pokémon battle, right? You tell it what moves to use? Think, Beryl, think!

He remembered when he was very, very young, probably around nine or ten years old. Some friends of his had invited him to watch a Pokémon battle at the Indigo Plateau. After all, Lance was there, and every boy in Blackthorn idolized Lance at the time. He was their town hero, the trainer who proved himself to be above all the rest and became a member of the Elite Four.

He remembered the battle there fuzzily. There was some move that his Pokémon knew… "Dragon" something… It was something about anger. He focused in on the fight in front of him, and saw the Dratini running in circles, wearing the Piloswine down. Lines of worry creased around her fear-filled eyes.

"Dratini!" Beryl yelled, his lips seeming to move of their own volition, "Use… Dragon's Rage!"

The Dratini's eyes widened then, with understanding, and she circled around to stare the Piloswine in the face. It attempted to headbutt her, but with a force she didn't realize she had, she leapt above him and turned around to face his behind.

As the lumbering beast attempted to turn around, the blue, serpentine Pokémon opened her mouth, and a blast of purple fire shot forth, a ball of mystical flames at its center. The Piloswine was knocked back, reeling with the sheer force of the hit. It shook its head, attempting to clear the spots out of its vision.

"Now, Dratini… Um… Hit it! Like… Slam against it really hard!" All of the Pokémon had physical attacks, right?

Whether they did or not wasn't an issue at this point, and luckly "slam" was something that registered in the Dratini's mind. She spun her tail around, smacking the whole of her body against the creature's face, right above the left eye.

Unfortunately, that only seemed to aggravate the situation, as the Piloswine then lifted its tusks and threw the far-smaller Pokémon further than she was comfortable with. She skidded in the slush, trying to come to a halt that just wouldn't come, and soon found herself in the thawing waters of Lake Blackthorn.

"Dratini!" Beryl screamed. The Piloswine reared its head toward him, and Beryl swore immediately.

A squeak from the shoreline, however, announced that the fight wasn't over. The Dratini was dripping water that thawed the snow as she slid along it. The temperature really was raising quickly, Beryl realized. The Piloswine was realizing this too, and it made him uneasy.

The Dratini's eyes were glinting with the kind of haughtiness that comes with the knowledge of impending victory, and Beryl quickly yelled the first thing he knew to yell: "Dratini, use Dragon's Rage! Now!"

The Piloswine's eyes widened in fright underneath its shaggy mane of hair, and it felt the hot, stinging flames of the Dratini's "Dragon Rage" attack. He was pushed back against the stone wall by its force, and the hard, stone wall smacked against his head. He slipped, then, into the peaceful, loving arms of unconsciousness.

The Dratini looked to her friend, then, wondering if he knew what to do with the unconscious Piloswine. He looked at her, unsure as to what her question was, then looking to the giant, hairy beast that now rested against the stone of the mountainside.

"What do you think we should do with him?" he asked the Dratini, walking over to the Piloswine. He had a friend whose mom worked at the Pokémon Center back in Blackthorn. If he ever found a way back, maybe he could—

His thoughts were interrupted by the flapping of wings, and a loud roaring from above. He looked up in terror, thinking "Not again…"

Descending from the sky came a Dragonite, her bronze scales glistening in the sun. She was looking at Beryl angrily, with a ferocity he'd only seen before in his mother. He once wandered off, when he was younger, onto Route 45, and found himself accosted by a particularly frightening Gligar (as if they weren't all frightening), and his mother took it upon herself to frighten the flying scorpion away. One look from her, and the purple Pokémon made tracks.

Beryl felt, in the moment he saw that Dragonite, exactly what that Gligar had felt when his mother had come to rescue him, and he didn't like it.

The Dragonite roared, and Beryl found himself running for cover. Just as fire began to pool in the creature's mouth, his new friend gave a squeak. Immediately, the flames were quenched. The Dragonite looked down at her daughter, then, floating down to greet her child.

The Dratini squeaked to her, telling her mother, then, of the human. He wasn't a threat, she was trying to tell her mother. It was he who had kept her warm the previous night, after all, when she was cold and alone. And it seemed that he was just as lost as she was, hungry to find a way back home. He didn't face his surroundings like a man longing for adventure so much as a child who didn't know where he was, and just wanted to get home.

The Dragonite mother growled to her daughter, disbelieving. Could this be true? The Dratini told her of the boy's refusal to use a pokéball, and lack thereof. He wasn't a trainer, and he didn't seem to know much at all about Pokémon battles themselves. He wasn't someone who they should fear.

The mother looked down at the human, who was, at this point, cowering near the rock wall of the mountain. She looked to her daughter, and asked a question that they had both feared facing. The Dratini nodded, hesitantly, knowing that it was better him than someone who would underappreciate her. He didn't seem particularly smart, but he knew how to use what he was given, which was something that many Pokémon trainers lacked far too often.

The Dragonite stepped forward, and Beryl's eyes widened in terror. He tried to back away further, only to find himself unable to burrow into the stone. He was resigning himself to death now. This is what you get for helping the needy, he realized. He should have listened to his mother and stayed inside yesterday. Just as he was beginning his prayers, however, the Dratini he'd recently grown attached to nuzzled his cheek. Its nose was still wet and cold from the lakewater it had coated itself in earlier, and he looked up to see the Dragonite standing over him in an expression that was trying so very hard to be benevolent.

Beryl looked up, confused. The Dragonite extended her hand—however clawed it may be—to the young human, and helped him to his feet. She grumbled, then, in that allusive language of Pokémon. He wasn't entirely sure what he was saying, but he could pick out bits and pieces through her body language. He shook his head, though. She shouldn't be asking that.

"You want me to take your daughter?" he asked. She nodded. "I'm not a Pokémon trainer, though. I've never even had a Pokémon of my own. My family has a pet Delibird, but that's really about it. I'm not prepared for—" the Dragonite cut him off with a gesture. She motioned toward her back, telling him that she could take him home, with her daughter. He saved her daughter from almost certain death, she was trying to tell him. The Dragonite would love to know that her daughter is in the hands of a capable human instead of off on her own, getting herself killed.

Of course, Beryl didn't understand most of this. What he did understand, though, was that this big dragon thing was the Dratini's mom or dad or something like that. He also understood that the big scary thing wanted him to take her daughter, and she didn't seem keen on taking "No" for an answer. Plus, she was offering him a ride home.

"I've never ridden on a Pokémon before, though…" he tried to explain. The Dragonite responded to this with a dismissive wave. Surely he'd catch on, right? Most humans took to it like a fish to water.

She turned around, and knelt down to offer Beryl access to her back. The Dratini slid up and wrapped around her mother's neck, to demonstrate that it wasn't nearly as scary as Beryl was afraid it would be.

The young teenager sighed in resignation. "I don't have much of a choice here, do I?" The Dratini shook her head cheerfully, and he slowly worked his way onto the Dragonite's scaly back. He wrapped his hands around the neck, trying to find a place to rest them. The Dragonite chuckled to herself, then took his hands in her claws, and held them tightly, but not so tightly as to dig into his skin. She groaned something to him, then, and he said, "Um… I live in Blackthorn, on West Street. It's a blue house with a gray roof, with some lawn gnomes out front. You might see a Delibird outside."

She nodded, and took flight.

Beryl soon realized that his inexperience with flying on pokémon was probably for the best


	3. Big, Red, Scary Snakes

It was the Dragonite's jump that first knocked the wind out of him. That first burst into the air shook Beryl down to his core, and he wasn't able to regain his breath until they touched down in front of the Blackthorn Pokémon Center. The fly was exhilarating and terrifying, and it took the tiny residue of food hiding in his stomach, scrambled it, mixed in some bile, and shot it out of his mouth at full force as soon as they hit the ground.

The vomit splattering against the pale concrete (painting it a most interesting shade of reddish orange) distracted him from the fact that the Dragonite had not, in fact, returned him home, but instead chosen to take him to a more easily recognized location. His Dratini friend slithered up beside him to see if he was dying, and, upon feeling her tug on the leg of his pants, he immediately finished, stood up straight, wiped his mouth clean and looked around to make sure no one saw his embarrassing display of nausea. Only a few people did, but amongst them was a friend of his.

"Beryl!" she yelled over at him. The sight of her tiny, bouncy frame made Beryl think of pixies every time he saw her. The pink hair didn't help things.

"Oh hey Joy!" he answered back.

Joy was the daughter of the Blackthorn Pokémon Center's head nurse and chief administrator (also named Joy).

Beryl didn't realize this, having not been dealing with Pokémon or outside Pokémon Centers for the fourteen years of his life, but every head nurse, at every Pokémon Center, in every town, was named "Joy," and they all looked exactly alike. And when I say "exactly," dear reader, I mean _exactly_. Most of you probably realize this, but the reasoning for all of this has always remained a little vague to outsiders.

In reality, the curious nature of Nurse Joys held a rather simple explanation. A bizarre genetic phenomenon (we'll call it the Jenny/Joy Effect for obvious reasons) resulted in an odd sort of natural cloning. All of the females in the "Joy" line (the original surname is Kreutzfeld, but because of marriage that name long ago lost its prominence) have pink hair, very attractive features, and highly nurturing tendencies.

Keep in mind that not every female in the Joy line is named "Joy"—quite the opposite, in fact. However, by tradition, those of the family who take up a nursing profession (a group that accounts for roughly ninety-eight percent of the Joy family) take up the moniker of "Nurse Joy" upon receiving their degree. Think of it as a title of sorts.

Joy's mother, of course, was the sort of overzealous type who attempts to plan out their child's life from the day she's conceived. Her mother (born Jeanne Alexandra Fitzgerald, now Nurse Joy Hudson) eagerly named her child "Joy," knowing full well that the chances of her not possessing the nurturing, longing desire to help and heal Pokémon at various Pokémon Centers across the world were pretty slim.

Of course, Joy Hudson was none of those things. She had long ago cropped her bright pink locks to a short length, dyed streaks of black into it. She straightened it regularly, and wore heavy amounts of eyeliner. Fingerless gloves were a regular part of her apparel, as were black tank tops, chains and things that were studded. Nursing didn't appeal to her—it was the battling, breeding, and raising that caught her attention. She was a born Pokémon trainer, something her mother would doubtless never understand. She and Beryl had known each other since they were two (well, she was three at the time; they were roughly nine months apart, age-wise), and had been close friends for a long time. Well, as close as Beryl would allow anyway, considering his tendency to keep to himself.

"Where have you been?" she asked, as if she'd been waiting for days for him to show up at the Pokémon Center.

"It's… Well, it's kind of a long story," he answered honestly, seeing as how it did take about nine pages in Microsoft Office Word (single-spaced).

"Your mom has been worried sick! Here, come in the Center and we'll—oh!" she looked down at Beryl's periwinkle companion at this point, "who's this?"

"Oh, right…" Beryl answered, looking down at the Dratini, "That's part of the long story, actually. This is—well, I guess this is my… Dratini?" His question wasn't so much directed at Joy as it was at the tiny dragonthing at his feet. She looked up at him and nodded, then, and he nodded too. "Yeah, it's my Dratini."

"Where did you—oh, nevermind. Just come with me and we'll call your mom real quick," she said, pulling him along by his shirt sleeve, "She's been searching for you for the past twelve hours straight. There are posters up all over town!"

"She what?" Beryl asked, his heartstrings tugging at the display at the paternal concern, but a harsher part of his brain wondered if it was entirely necessary for them to start an all-out manhunt when he was gone one night. Dratini speedily inched along behind him, refusing to be lost in the shuffle.

Joy shoved the phone in Beryl's hands, and yelled to her mom. "Here, you call your house. I'll take your Dratini over to get healed." She looked down at the small, blue creature, "Would you like that? If I take you over to get taken care of?"

The Dratini looked up at Beryl, as if to ask if that was such a good idea. He simply shrugged, and the Pokémon nodded to the pink-haired teenager, inching along behind her speedily.

Beryl dialed the number for his house as soon as the two were out of his sight. The phone rang once before his mother's face popped up on the screen. "Hello?" she said, before her eyes widened in shock, "Beryl? Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you. We thought you were dead and we sent the police out to find you and—"

And it went on like that for a few minutes. Beryl tried to listen, he really did, but there comes a time in a conversation like this where the young teenager realizes that his parent, while looking out for his best interests, is really just repeating herself.

He waited for her to take a breath before attempting to explain himself. Little moments like that are the kind that need to be taken advantage of with a person like Tanya Finnegan. "Mom, I'm fine, I really am. I'm sorry about everything, but it really wasn't my fault."

"Well you come home right this instant!" she answered. The look in her eyes brought to mind a protective Ursaring.

"I… I can't, Mom… I have to wait for… someone."

"Someone? Someone like who? Is it that _girl_?" Beryl's mom had a peculiar habit of trying to set her son up with various young females, the most recent of which was a girl named Bethany Oserlausitz. Neither she nor Beryl were particularly interested in each other, though, and they'd only spoken to each other twice.

"No, Mom. I have… I have a Pokémon now."

"Oh well that's –what? No, no, this is just too much for me right now. What would your father say if he was with us to hear all of this?" she was tearing up now. Beryl's father wasn't dead—he was on a mining expedition in Sinnoh, chipping out bits of one of the larger mountains to make room for a tunnel between a cave in the mountain and the Unown Temple on the other side.

"Mom…" Beryl sighed.

"Come home right this instant, you hear me? I'll let the police know you're safe and they don't have to look for you anymore," she said.

"What—you had the police looking for me?" Beryl started.

"Oh-cshhhkshhhh—you're breaking up—kshhshhkkk—I l-ve you!" she said, blatantly making the "breaking up" noises with her mouth in the phone, before hanging up.

Beryl shook his head, then caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. A young girl came rushing into the Pokémon Center, a look of panic on their face. She ran up to the counter, many of the people in the Center watching the person warily.

"I need you to heal my Pokémon…" the girl gasped.

"All right, just give them here. There's no need to panic," Nurse Joy told him.

"You haven't heard? Oh, no, there's a lot of reason to panic. Team Rocket's—" the girl began, before being cut off by a rush of other trainers bursting through the doors. They were all screaming, scrambling to beat others through the doors. Each and every trainer was haggard and worn-looking. This wasn't unusual, considering that a lot of trainers come to Blackthorn City through the Ice Path to the north, but the number of trainers, and how worn down they looked, was a major issue.

They all ran to the counter, nursing wounds and Pokémon alike. The trainers all had a sort of frantic look in their eyes, their words mumbled and rushing. They wanted—no, _needed_—to get out of town as soon as humanly possible. Beryl ran up to Joy and asked her what was going on.

"Apparently," she answered, brushing her black-streaked bangs out of her face, "Team Rocket attacked Mahogany Town hardcore, took over the radio tower, used some kind of signal to force a bunch of the Magikarp in the Lake of Rage to evolve, and totally obliterated the Pokémon Center and Mart. All of these trainers have come here as a last resort, and a bunch of their Pokémon have been taken out by the Rockets."

"Oh… Well, that's… Not good," Beryl answered lamely.

"No, Beryl. No, it's not," she told him patronizingly, before handing him a pastel blue-and-pink pokéball. "Here's your Dratini."

"It's in a pokéball?" he asked.

"Of course. She's yours now, after all, and you're her trainer. Now help me in the back with all of these other Pokémon."

"She's a she?" Beryl asked again.

"Shh," Joy answered, pressing a finger to his lips. His face promptly turned blood-induced shade of pinkish red, prompting a coquettish smile from her. "You're so cute when you're like that. Now, come with me."

He ran to the back, and grabbed trays of pokéballs, one stacked on top of another. He ran with them, back and forth through the tiny, narrow aisles that led to one of the various healing stations scattered throughout the Center. A tremor shook the Center on his way back, however, sending pokéballs flying. Joy, following closely behind him, ended up tripping and falling, prompting Beryl to prop her up awkwardly with one arm while holding a tray of pokéballs in his other hand unsteadily.

"What was that?" Beryl asked, shaking.

"Team Rocket, I bet. Come with me." The young, pink-haired damsel left the scattered pokéballs on the ground and ran to the front of the Center, leaving Beryl to drop his tray and hurriedly follow after. Another tremor rocked the Center, and Beryl toppled over like a human Jenga set.

"Come on!" Joy shouted. He looked up—she was already at the other end of the hall. He stood up and ran quickly, attempting to make up for lost time, and then he heard the voice.

"CITIZENS OF BLACKTHORN CITY," came the voice. It was masculine and hollow, like it was being amplified through a megaphone, "WE ARE TEAM ROCKET. IF YOU COMPLY WITH US, AND COME ALONG PEACEFULLY, WE WILL SPARE YOUR LOVELY CITY FROM ANY DAMAGES IT MIGHT INCUR THROUGH OUR POWERFUL POKÉMON. HOWEVER, IF WE FACE A STRUGGLE FROM YOU, WE WILL BE FORCED TO TAKE DRASTIC MEASURES."

Beryl heard a few choice words being yelled at the Rockets. He ran to the front of the Center to look. There were between fifteen and twenty members of Team Rocket, all dressed in the iconic black and red of their organization. Each and every one of them was holding a black pokéball with red trim.

"Clearly they have something for the red and black," Beryl joked weakly. No one paid particular attention to him. A few of the townsfolk were leaving their houses now, holding pokéballs and every makeshift weapon they could muster (frying pans, rolling pins, etc.)

"I see we're going to have a fight on our hands," the lead Rocket muttered to one of his cohorts, before shouting to the rest of the group, "Ready the Gyaradoses!"

The Rockets spread out, then, and threw their pokéballs into the air. From each one was summoned a massive red sea-monster with teeth the size of a young boy. Fins lined their scaly red hide, with cracks and blisters indicating that their growth was recent—and forced. An attack order was given from the lead Rocket, and the Gyaradoses proceeded to spew forth the pressurized, electrified green air of Dragonbreath.

The citizens ran from the Dragonbreath, most of them escaping. Those without pokéballs in hand ran to their homes momentarily. Those with pokéballs hid, and waited. A significant amount of dust was blown up, prompting a demand of "Halt!" from the lead Rocket. The trainers in the Pokémon Center were hiding, fearing for what was to come. Flashes of red lit up the crackling, static-filled air like fireworks on a foggy night, spilling forth dozens of Dratini and Dragonair whose shimmery skin grew dull in the soil that settled with the air. The hair on the back of Beryl's neck stood up straight.

"You think you can handle the might of Team Rocket?" shouted the leader of the group, "Let's hit 'em with all we got. Make Giovanni proud!"

Then, before the townsfolk could react, a wall of green, electric Dragonbreath spewed from the gaping, toothy maws of two dozen ferocious red sea serpents. The unprepared citizens of Blackthorn, still in a purely reactionary mindset, were completely off-guard and unprepared. It was a slaughter.

The dragon-type move obliterated the poor dragons, which were, by their very nature, weak to the attack. The wall of electrified air tore through the squad, leaving trainers reeling with the force of the blast. Beryl watched, in terror, while the Rockets advanced, the hungry Gyaradoses still weak and starving from their recent evolution.

"We have to go out there and help them!" Beryl said through gritted teeth, gripping his Dratini's pokéball with white knuckles.

"What do you think you can do to get them out of there that the trainers out there haven't tried already?" Joy asked.

"I don't mean the trainers…" the round-faced trainer muttered, almost inaudibly. He stood, then, and ran outside, his eyes blinking in the bright sunlight that ripped through the dust clouds on the ground.

"Beryl!" Joy yelled, before cursing quietly to herself. She grabbed up a great ball that had been scattered to the floor, and quickly followed after the inexperienced trainer.

The numerous Dratini and Dragonair were being pulled back into their pokéballs, and the Rockets were readying themselves for the kill when Beryl ran to intercept. "Gyarados! Magikarp! Whatever you choose to call yourselves! Stand down!"

It was Beryl's young voice that rang out along the street in front of the Pokémon Center, rending the orders of the Team Rocket member's in half and perplexing trainers and Pokémon alike. The Gyaradoses stopped, obviously, curious to see what this boy had to say. They were mean and vicious, but they weren't stupid.

"What's this?" the Rocket commander asked, glaring first at the Gyaradoses and then at the young trainer in front of them, gripping a pastel pokéball in a soft, scholarly hand.

"You don't have to do this," Beryl began, "You don't have to listen to these jerks who forced you into a shape that you didn't want. You don't have to be their pawns. Don't you see? These people _need _you to do their dirty work. They don't control you—you control them."

This set an evil glint into the eye of every Gyarados. The meek, obeisant personality of the Magikarp fled when the Gyaradoses realized the power that they now held over their malicious, overbearing captors. The Rockets' faces lost their color, and they started backing up fearfully. Even the townsfolk were curious now, each one retrieving their dragon pokémon and attempting to back away from the soon-to-be-wild Gyaradoses.

Just as one of the Gyarados began to take one of the Rockets into its mouth, a noise like the flapping of thick, powerful wings, filled the air. The Gyaradoses began to wail, distracted from their evil masters, and from above came a large stone creature, though not nearly so large as them. It had a strong, powerful jaw, pointed ears, and wings that bore powerful claws at their hinges. Riding on the aforementioned stone monster was a redheaded man wearing a cape and a dark blue suit, covered with intricate, orange, flame-themed designs.

The Aerodactyl swooped down to fifteen feet above the shrieking red sea serpents, and the trainer jumped down onto the back of one particularly active Gyarados. It thrashed wildly as soon as his feet touched it, and he released five pokéballs into the air, from which burst two Dragonites, a Charizard, a Dragonair and a blue Gyarados of his own.

"Everyone!" shouted the man atop the violently twisting Gyarados, "Use Thunder Wave on these Gyaradoses and we can eliminate this problem quickly and save our fair city! Everyone with an electric attack, ready it!"

"Who's that guy?" Beryl whispered to Joy, who was standing beside him, open-mouthed, looking up at the powerful trainer who was somehow maintaining a hold on the deadly Gyarados that was flailing underneath him. As soon as he asked, she turned to him and smacked him on the face.

"What?" he asked again.

"Sometimes you're really stupid, you know that?" She replied angrily.

"Yeah, but that's not really an answer to my question."

Joy sighed, "That's Lance. Get your Dratini and have her use Thunder Wave on these Gyaradoses, okay?"

"Wait, like, the famous Lance?" Beryl was just now realizing he was in over his head.

"Yes, now get out there!" Other trainers were now releasing their Pokémon, some tired and weary, others at full health and ready to battle—some Dragons, some Electric-types, and an assortment of others with Electric attacks readied.

"Right!" Beryl cried, throwing his Dratini's pokéball out to join the ranks. "Dratini, get your Thunder Wave ready!"

As soon as the red light spilled forth and his Dratini materialized, a wave of electricity burst forth from her wing-like ears. Static rippled through the air, arcing with the lighting produced before it hit one of the hungry red Gyaradoses.

"Yes!" cried Lance, as more and more Pokémon zapped the Gyaradoses into submission. He eyed Beryl knowingly, and jumped up to grab the leg of his hovering Dragonite.

"Get that one!" he cried to his Dratini, pointing to the Gyarados that Lance had, up until that moment, been on top of. Electricity arced once more through the air, and collided with the immediately-stunned Gyarados, as it fell to the ground.

When the last of the Gyaradoses hit the ground, Lance gave out a loud, booming command to catch every last one of them, to be handled by the Pokémon Center and himself. Joy tossed Beryl a pokéball calmly, and he threw it to the same Gyarados that Lance had, moments before, been standing atop.

"Where are the Rockets?" Beryl asked, looking around.

"They left, no doubt," answered a turquoise-haired woman beside him, "they're a licentious and cowardly lot, Team Rocket. They head for the hills at the first sign that they might lose."

"Oh, okay. I guess that makes sense," Beryl answered, nodding slightly.

"You did very well out there, young man," the woman commented, her cape billowing in the slight breeze. "I don't believe I've seen you around here before, though. Are you new?"

"Nah, I've lived here all my life," he smiled, obliviously, "I just today caught my Dratini, though, so that might be why you don't know me."

Her eyes widened at this. Joy ran over and whacked Beryl over the head.

"Why do you keep doing that?" shouted Beryl.

"That's Clair, you dolt!" she whispered through gritted teeth in his ear. "She's the gym leader here. She determines who's good and who's not good, and—"

"Hello, Lance," Clair said, her attention torn from the two children and toward the tall, red-haired Champion who had approached.

"Clair!" he pronounced loudly, his arms outstretched as if readying a hug. Her resulting facial expression indicated that doing so might end with his head being separated from his body, so he put his arms down. "It's been a long time, Clair," he told her. His smile never waned.

"So it has," she responded crisply.

"And who's this young man?" he asked, clasping a hand over Beryl's unwitting shoulder. He stared up, gasping.

"Beryl!" he eventually coughed out, his trachea finally giving way to his demands for speech. Lance chuckled lightly. "Beryl Finnegan, sir."

"Well, Mr. Finnegan, I expect to be seeing a lot of you in the future. You showed a lot of skill out there, kid. A lot of talent, especially for someone so inexperienced and new to the field," Lance smiled down at him. Beryl blushed a little.

"Um… Thank you sir," he stammered, "I really appreciate that."

"It was no problem. In fact," Lance looked over at Clair, then back at Beryl, "if you'd like, I could have someone very skilled, very talented look after you in your Pokémon training journey. I know a lot of very adept trainers who could easily help you out."

"What are you getting at?" Clair asked, and Beryl attempted to explain that he wasn't at all interested really.

"Nonsense!" exclaimed Lance, "Clair, if you don't mind…" He then took the blue-haired woman off to the side, and discussed things in hushed, secretive tones.

"What are they doing?" Beryl asked, whispering to his pink-haired friend.

"For the first time today," Joy responded, "I have no idea."

Clair and Lance stopped what they were doing eventually and walked over to Beryl and Joy. "Beryl," Clair said, "in light of your recent display of exceptional talent with regards to Pokémon training, I'd like to invite you to train at my gym."

"Um… Okay?" answered Beryl, not entirely sure what the implications were of whatever he was agreeing to. Joy stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Are you certain?" Clair answered, "It will be hours of rigorous training a day. I will pay you, but only a marginal amount. When you work for me, you work for your Pokémon and no one else. You live to train, Beryl. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to face a life of hardship, a life of Pokémon training?"

"I'm actually not sure, when you put it like that," he answered hesitantly. Joy grabbed him, and pulled him to the side.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she asked him, whispering angrily.

"I don't really know…" he muttered back.

"This is the chance of a lifetime! Do you think everyone gets to train at the greatest Pokémon Gym in all of Johto? You can't pass this up, Beryl! I won't let you."

"Joy, it's my life. I'll do with it what I want. Besides, what will my parents think?"

"Beryl, you have a gift," she brushed her black-and-pink bangs out of her face, "and you can't just throw it away. Your skill in Pokémon training has been recognized by two of the most amazing Pokémon trainers of the last ten years. Do you know what that means?"

"It means that I can be a Pokémon trainer If I want to, and no one is going to force me to do anything. Not even you, Joy."

She glared at him, though she was sincerely impressed by this sudden boldness of his.

"That's what I'm going to tell Clair, too," he continued, "I'm going to tell her that I'll think about it and get back to her, because right now, I'm not even sure I want to be a Pokémon trainer. I mean, my Dratini's awesome. She's great. But don't you think that's more reason to keep her out of battles?"

Joy harrumphed at this, but eventually rolled her eyes and nodded. "Fine," she said, "do what you want. I don't care; it's your life."

He smiled a little, "I suppose that's all I'm going to get, eh?" She stared him down, and he sighed, before walking back to Clair.

"I'll think about it," he said simply, before feeling prodded by Clair's gaze, "I'll get back to you when I decide. Right now, I don't know if this whole 'trainer' business is really for me anyway."

She nodded simply, "I suppose I can respect that. If you need to contact me, get ahold of me at this number." The blue-haired trainer pulled a business card out of her vest, then, and handed it to him. "If you need anything at all, even unrelated to this, and you know I can help you, call me. I'll do my best."

"Thank you," Beryl said, smiling, "I'm going home now. It was wonderful meeting both of you." He nodded to Clair and Lance, who nodded in return. He turned around, then, and walked past Joy, who followed after.

"What'd they say?" she asked, yearningly.


	4. Domestic Life

Beryl couldn't believe himself. He hadn't even had a Pokémon of his own for more than a day, and already he was fighting Gyarados – innocent Gyarados that wouldn't have even been trying to hurt anyone if not for Team Rocket. This was all too much for him, he realized, as he lay in bed the next morning.

He heard the television downstairs – some sort of news program. "And so, thanks to the trainers of Blackthorn City, including our own 'Dragon Tamers' Clair and Lance, the Gyarados under the control of Team Rocket were contained, and the surviving Rocketeers who attacked the city are in police custody. In international news, relations with the nation of Unova have become strained of late, as a recent outbreak of the Pokérus from a Unovan plane has…"

"Beryl!" his mom yelled up at him, "It's time to wake up, sweetie!"

He groaned. "I'm coming, Mom!" His Dratini looked up from the foot of the bed at her friend, jostled awake by his movements. She squeaked at him, in the tongue of Pokémon.

"I know, I know," he grumbled, pulling socks and pants, before looking over at her, his brow furrowed. "Do you have a name?"

She cocked her head at this.

"A name. You know, like mine is Beryl. I'm not just 'human,' I'm Beryl. What's your name?"

She chirped in response, in a way that sounded much like she was saying her own name.

"I can see why everyone just calls their Pokémon whatever their species is now," he grumbled. She chittered, curious. "See, what you just said sounded a lot like 'Dratini' to me. So I guess I'm just not sure what your name is. We'll cycle through some later, and you can stop me when you get to one that sounds right. Sound good?" he asked, rubbing the top of her head slightly. She purred at this, and the two of them left the bedroom to be greeted with the sweet aroma of breakfast cooking.

"Hey Mom," Beryl said, walking to the fridge to look for orange juice.

"Good morning Beryl. Good morning, um… Dratini," his mom started a bit at the sight of his new Pokémon.

"Hey Mom, is there anymore orange juice left?" he asked, and she sighed heavily.

"I couldn't get to the store yesterday, and after it was torn apart by those awful Rocket people and their giant beasts, I wouldn't be surprised if it was closed yesterday too."

Beryl groaned. "Well, crap," he said. He knew that his mother wasn't telling the whole story there, but she didn't very well need to – ever since their father left, money had become increasingly scarce. He sent over cash every month, enough for a few weeks, but it was near the end of the month and supplies were running thin. "Couldn't you send Libby out to get some?"

"Ber, sweetie, you know it's not that simple," his mom told him, and she was right. He grumbled a little, before pouring himself a glass of water and sitting down at the table to enjoy the cinnamon toast she had placed in front of him. He looked down at his Dratini, who was eying Libby's bowl of food. Libby, the Delibird, did not seem terribly thrilled with this, and was squawking at the Dratini in a decidedly territorial tone.

"Mom," Beryl said, "could we maybe get something for my new Pokémon to eat and drink? She seems pretty hungry, and she hasn't eaten anything since… Y'know." He meant to say "yesterday," but he couldn't quite get himself to think about what happened that day.

"Of course sweetie," she said, getting the Dratini a bowl of water from the faucet and putting some of Libby's pokéfood into another bowl, before setting them both down before the slithering Pokémon.

"What are your plans today?" his mom asked, looking up at him. He swallowed his food.

"Actually, Mom, I was going to talk to you about that. I know that you don't really like me having Dratini around, so I was thinking I could stop by the Pokémon Center and help out there for a while. You know, get us out of your hair for a bit."

"That's sweet, dear," she said, looking down at the draconian creature. "But I don't have a problem with your Dratini, as long as you take good care of her."

"Of course I will, Mom," he said, smiling at her. In the back of his mind, he wondered if maybe it would be best if he took that position at the gym. Depending on what Clair pays, he could definitely help with expenses at home. He shook his head to jar the thought loose, and decided to talk to Clair (and his mom) about it later.

"Well, go ahead to the Pokémon Center if you want," she said, smiling. "I'll be here when you get back, probably reading my novel."

"Thanks, Mom," he said, finishing his food and heading out the door. He stopped after stepping out the door, then walked back inside, took his shoes back off, and went back to the kitchen.

"Dratini, c'mon!" she looked at him confused, before slithering along behind him. He put his shoes on again at the door and scurried out, his Pokémon behind him. She shrieked at him, the door closing at her midsection.

"Oh, sorry," he gasped, running over to her and opening the door. The weight of it must have closed it on her, he decided. As soon as he opened the door for her to come out, she crawled up his body and wrapped herself around his shoulders and torso. Beryl shuddered. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

"Hey Beryl!" the mailman said as he ran past toward the Pokémon Center.

"Hey Phil!" Beryl answered.

"Hey Beryl!"

"Hey Erisa!"

This continued as he went along, and the Dratini around his shoulders couldn't help but wonder if her new "trainer" knew everyone in this town, or if he was just showing off. Eventually, they arrived at the Pokémon Center, and Nurse Joy waved at him from behind the desk. It was still before nine o' clock, he realized, so the Center wasn't very full.

"Hey Nurse Joy!" Beryl said, smiling.

"Well, hi, Beryl! How's your new friend doing?"

Joy looked at the Dratini, which had securely fixed itself around his body. "Oh my," she said, "it looks like she's grown a little bit since yesterday already. It must be your training!"

Beryl chuckled. "I don't think so, but thanks. Say, is your daughter around here anywhere?"

"Oh, she's still asleep upstairs. I tried waking her up for a whole half hour earlier… I don't know, maybe you could get her up, Beryl," she waved a hand dismissively.

"Hm… Okay. What do you say, 'Tini? Wanna go wake up Joy?" The Dratini narrowed her eyes at this. "So… No then?" Beryl asked. The Dratini chirped in response, and Beryl looked at the nurse helplessly.

She chuckled, "It sounds like she doesn't like being called 'Tini. She thinks it sounds…" Dratini squeaked again, grateful that Nurse Joy was there to translate. "She said it makes her sound weak." The nurse giggled.

"Oh, of course," Beryl muttered. "Anyway, do you want to go wake Joy up?" The Pokémon gave what counted for a shrug when an individual lacked arms or any kinds of appendages, and they both went to the back of the Center, where the stairs were, to go bug Joy.

"Joy," Beryl said, knocking on her door. No response. He looked at the Dratini on his shoulders and gave a "what do we do now?" look. The Pokémon sighed, slithered off of his shoulders, and thumped her tail against the door. The wood looked like it was about to crack from that hit. Beryl's eyes widened, and, as the Pokémon prepared another attack, he placed a hand on the tip of her tail.

"You're going to break the door like that," he said to her. On a whim, he tested the knob of the door. It was unlocked. Slowly, he pushed it open, and there was Joy, lying in bed. He hadn't seen her without makeup in years, he realized, and she looked surprisingly fetching. Beryl looked down at his Dratini, and nodded over at Joy. The Dratini looked over, then back at Beryl, not sure what he wanted.

"Go jump on the bed, wake her up," he said, sporting a massive grin. She nodded, and slithered onto the bed, before whacking her tail and shrieking in what was easily the least graceful attempt to wake anyone that Beryl had ever seen.

Joy screamed, thrashing in the bed and knocking the dragon Pokémon off of her bed. The Dratini chuckled, inching over to Beryl, who was also laughing hysterically. Joy growled, threw a book at the two of them, and threw herself back under the covers.

"Oh, c'mon, Joy…" Beryl said, walking over to her bed. "C'mon…" he said again, and responded with something muffled and sleepy. "What was that?" he asked, and she lowered the covers slightly.

"I said, I'm naked, and you need to get out, freak," she grumbled.

Beryl backed away, shocked. "Um, I just… Your mother asked … I'm just gonna go now. Yeah, I'm gonna go." She grumbled something vulgar as he backpedaled out of the room.

He closed the door and pressed his back to the wall, groaning as he slid to the ground. His Pokémon eyed him curiously. Beryl realized that she didn't understand what had happened just then.

"Oh, um…" he fumbled for an explanation. "See, with humans, it's a really big deal to see someone naked. That's why we all wear these clothes. They're not just to keep us warm and protected, they also make sure we don't see parts of each other's bodies that are… well, private."

The serpentine creature raise an eyebrow, still very confused. Beryl sighed. "It's just… It's a human thing, okay?"

The Dratini shrugged in that Dratini way, and decided to leave it alone. Joy walked out of her room, her hair a curly, unkempt mop that strayed from her typical straightened 'do. "What?" she asked.

"We were supposed to get you up!" Beryl exclaimed, his hands held defensively in front of him. Her eyes narrowed.

"All right, fine, just let me get dressed…"

Beryl and his new Pokémon waited outside, then, with little to entertain themselves. They practiced coiling her body into a tight spring and bouncing her off of the wall. They practiced making small purplish flames spout from her mouth, much like her Dragon Rage attack. She turned her body into a wheel and rolled around on the floor, and she made a small Twister inside the hallway that caused a hearty breeze to blow through. They both laughed at the way the pictures flew off of the wall, before picking them up.

Beryl looked at the clock that had fallen from the wall, and gasped. "Wow, it's been a full hour since we came up here." He turned to the Dratini at his feet. "Maybe we should just…"

Joy stepped out then, all vaguely punklike black clothing. Her hair was straightened, and Beryl was happy that his world wasn't dissolving anymore.

"Okay," Joy said, closing her door behind her. A small smile spread across her face. "Let's get to work."

Making their way to the front, it was clear that some of the trainers from the previous day still needed attending to. Most of the Pokémon carried a few wounds from the battle previously, and the machines used to heal them were constantly full.

"Great," Joy was telling him. "We're going to have to tend to some of these Pokémon manually. Give me a hand with this cart, Ber." They moved a cart of Full Restore from the back storage area to the main lobby, and began handing them out to trainers.

"So, did you tell your mom about what Lance and Clair said?"

"Not exactly," Beryl said. "I was about to, but then…"

"Then what?" Joy asked.

"Well, then I didn't."

"And why not?"

Beryl paused, a Full Restore leaving the tips of his fingers. "Well, I was going to just act like it never happened, y'know? So it wouldn't be a big deal if I told her. But then I got to thinking." An eager trainer plucked another Full Restore from him. He smiled up at the trainer, who immediately began attending to her injured Poliwrath.

"You were thinking about…?" Joy pressed.

"I was thinking that maybe my mom could really use the money, y'know? Maybe I could help my family out. And I know that…"

"You know that your mom would smack you if you asked her to let you do that." Joy nodded.

"Yeah," Beryl groaned. "Have a good day," he told a large, burly trainer with a Tyrogue. "I was just thinking," he told Joy, "that if I could bring something to the house finally, instead of watching my mom waste away like that, that maybe she'd forgive me for, y'know…"

"Training Pokémon," Joy sighed. She pulled a box of Max Elixir from the cart, and placed it on top. Other trainers gathered around her, hoping to grab some, and Beryl began handing canisters of the stuff to the injured trainers and their Pokémon. "Well, I think that you should do what you feel is right. If that means hiding the fact that you're working at the gym a secret, then so be it."

"What do you mean?" Beryl asked. "That sounds like a horrible idea. She's sure to find out."

"Not necessarily," Joy told him. "If you do it right, she never has to know. Say all your hard work here started paying off, literally. I'll cover for you."

Beryl sighed. "I don't know about that, Joy. I don't even know that it's the right thing to do, really, or even what Clair pays."

"It's on commission, from what I hear," she said.

"What's that mean?"

She looked at him like he had just asked what color the sky was. "Well, every time a Pokemon trainer beats another one, he or she hands over a set amount of money. That's how gyms stay in operation. Every trainer who loses a battle at a gym gives money to that gym, and the trainers who work there are paid a really small amount, with a bonus for each trainer that they beat there."

Beryl's forehead was creased in confusion. "So, you don't get paid hardly at all for working at a gym?"

"Not unless you beat some trainers," Joy nodded, handing a Max Elixir to a blond girl with a ghostly flame Pokémon that was clearly from outside the region. She smiled.

"So, I have to be a _good_ trainer to get money," Beryl said quietly.

"Of course you do," Joy said. "How do you think trainers even stay _alive_? It's not out of the kindness of everyone else; it's out of earning money and living."

Beryl looked down at his Dratini, still wrapped around his body. She looked at him, curious. He looked, concerned, at her. "It just doesn't seem right."

"What's that?" Joy asked.

"Oh, nothing," Beryl said, faking a small smile.

As the day wore on, fewer trainers came in. Behind the counter, Joy asked Beryl a question.

"So, why do your parents hate Pokémon training so much?"

Beryl looked down, uncertain of how to answer. "Well, they think it's inhumane. I mean, that's how Pokémon grow and all. But they hate pain of any kind, and forcing Pokémon to fight only breeds pain, in their eyes. I know it's ridiculous, but they're my parents. And I can't help but agree with them, at least a little."

Joy looked out at the lobby, then to her mom. The nurse was loading some inhabited Pokeballs into the healing dock. "Hey, mom," Joy said. Her mother looked up. "We're gonna head upstairs for a bit, okay?" She nodded, curls bouncing.

Joy stepped back and grabbed Beryl's hand. "Come with me." They mounted the stairs and stepped into a back room where a television sat. Joy hooked a media player into it, and pressed play.

"I think I know where you're coming from," she said. A battle started playing out on the screen. The footage was grainy, and from a poor vantage point, perhaps from a security camera. Two angry trainers, with equally unhappy looking Pokémon (a Raticate and Beedrill), were tearing into each other. The blood of the two Pokémon was staining the ground where they battled. The trainers were swearing at each other, leaping into the fray and tearing each other to pieces verbally and physically.

"What is this?" Beryl asked, horrified.

"This is an illegal, underground battle. These types of battles happen outside of League-sanctioned territory, for high stakes and with little regard for human life, let alone Pokémon life. These are the kinds of battles that happen in times of war, when people and Pokémon are at the end of their rope. These are the sorts of things you've been thinking of as normal, right?"

Beryl looked away, and nodded.

"Now, remember yesterday? Pretty scary, right? But it's nothing like what happens where the IPL can't see. But this is what a League-sanctioned match looks like…" She pressed some buttons on the media player, and a different battle began to make itself clear on the screen. A Blastoise was facing off against an Espeon. The Blastoise's trainer was shouting commands and the Blastoise began firing high-pressure streams of water from the cannons in its back. The Espeon dodged one blast, but was struck with the second. It screamed in pain, and Beryl flinched.

The Espeon's trainer held a hand up for the other to stop, and ran to the Espeon's side with a Hyper Potion in hand. She sprayed the potion on the psychic Pokémon's wounds, and sparkles of light rose from the wounds. The Espeon leapt to its feet, and the battle began again, the Espeon leaping to the fray and firing bursts of psychic energy at the large tortoise. The Blastoise backed away in pain, and retreated into its shell. The Espeon fired wave after wave of psionic force at the Pokémon, and the Blastoise was nearing the edge of the battlefield.

Quickly, at a response from its trainer, the Blastoise leapt out of its shell and toward the Espeon, spinning ferociously in the air, before unleashing a tidal wave onto the smaller, catlike creature. A thread of light passed between the Blastoise's trainer and the Blastoise itself, and the Blastoise returned to the ground.

"Wait," Beryl said. Joy smiled, and paused the video. "What was that?" he asked.

"That," Joy told him, "was the bond between a Pokémon and her trainer."

"What do you mean?" Beryl asked.

"Studies have been done, for decades, over the bond between Pokémon and their trainers. In a few rare instances, that bond manifests itself physically. Sometimes it's an aura, sometimes it's a shared fire in the eyes of the trainer and their Pokémon. Sometimes it's a beam of light, almost unnoticeable but still evident."

"But what does _that_ mean?" Beryl continued.

"The relationship between Pokémon and people is a complex one, but you can't ignore the fact that we're all tied together," Joy said, "Some call it the circle of life. Some call it the meaning of life. Some call it their livelihood. In any case, what we've seen over time is that Pokémon and humans, together, grow through Pokémon battles. And battles aren't the only way for a Pokémon to grow, nor is it the only way for that bond to develop. But the greatest heroes and leaders of the world have fought alongside Pokémon, against those who would mistreat and misuse them. And those trainers have gained the love of their Pokémon, and given that love in turn.

"Pokémon training," Joy continued, "is about allowing that bond, that love, to develop and grow into something great. Battling with a Pokémon at your side… It's beautiful. It kindles a fire in your heart that can't be quenched by even the fiercest downpour. You love harder, feel stronger, and think more clearly than anyone ever could without Pokémon."

Beryl looked at the screen and furrowed his brow. He looked down at his Dratini, and placed his hand on her head. "I think I'll go to the gym and see what they're doing there."

"What?" Joy asked. Beryl stood up, and began walking out. "Hey, talk to me," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What's going through your head right now?"

"I need to see this sort of thing, not on a screen but in person. I need to know that this kind of bond really exists, and that people really bond with their Pokémon like this. I need to see the gym, and what really goes on there. And if you're right, maybe my mom will be a little more understanding."


End file.
